


How to Help

by assortedsnakenoises



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Crying, Deceit | Janus Sanders is a Good Friend, Depressed Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Emotions, Food, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Mentions of not eating, Mild Language, Not Beta Read, Platonic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders & Deceit | Janus Sanders, Platonic Dukeceit - Freeform, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Hatred, Skipping Meals, Sympathetic Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, Sympathetic Deceit | Janus Sanders, Touch-Starved Dark Creativity | Remus "The Duke" Sanders, based on my own experiences, it gets better though, its mild kinda, kind of, negative thinking about self, the first chapters kinda rough, the lights come in later, touch starvation, vent fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-25
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-16 12:33:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29700600
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/assortedsnakenoises/pseuds/assortedsnakenoises
Summary: Remus is tired. He's been tired for awhile. He doesn't know how to deal with it, but maybe the others can help him out.
Comments: 9
Kudos: 22





	1. Chapter 1

He’s been laying here… for awhile. Did he know how long awhile was? No. But it must have been a pretty long time, since to him its felt like hours and days. Weeks even. Images flash in his head of him laying in his bed for months, decomposing, rotting, his face sunken, maggot eating his skin and the meat off his bones and cockroaches gnawing at his hair and nails… he should probably get up. He looks over to where his clock should have been only to find an empty spot on the ground, and oh that's right! He broke it. And then burned it. So he doesn't have a clock anymore. There’s a clock in the kitchen… but that’s far. And he’s tired. So, so, so very tired. That's why he’d laid down in the first place, to see if his stupid fucking brain would be merciful enough to let him sleep for a few hours. But no luck. He could always try and  _ make  _ it turn off, that had worked before, and he really didn’t want to be awake right now… but the last time he had, Jan freaked out and started yelling shit about “him being an idiot”, and “why was there so much blood”, and then “why would you ingest cyanide”, and wouldn’t even listen when he tried to explain he was trying to nap. He could go and do something. But doing something was a lot of effort. Doing anything these days was a lot of effort. 

Maybe he could go find Janus! If he wasn’t busy he’d probably be nice to him, or at the very least tolerate him enough to talk to him for a bit. That was always nice. Most people in the mindscape didn’t talk to him, and if they did it was things like “What are you doing” and “Put that down” which weren’t very fun conversations. Jans room is nearer than the kitchen too! Now he just needs to gather up the energy to get to his room. That’s the hard part. Maybe he could text him? But he doesn’t know where his phone is... okay, okay, whatever, that's fine, he can do this! He really wants to see Janny and he’s really  _ really  _ bored! He takes a deep breath, braces himself, and rolls off his bed and onto the floor. Which isn’t that big drop at all, seeing as his bed is just a mattress on the floor. He grips the filing cabinet he uses as a nightstand and pushes himself up. He’s standing! Hell yeah! He’s dizzy as fuck, but he’s standing! That hadn’t happened in.... uh … well, he doesn’t want to think about it. 

He makes the trek to Jan's room, doing what he thought was a very good job at ignoring all the aches and pains and dizziness as he walked, and came to the yellow door decorated with dandelions and little snakes that he knows to be Janus' room. He had painted the flowers and snakes himself, he’s rather proud of them. Usually his work is a bit more… macabre, but he’d toned it down for the decorations when Jan asked him to jazz it up a bit. He puts on a big grin, and bangs his head on the door a few times. 

“Oh  _ Jan-Jan! _ ” He sings loudly. Nothing. His smile falls a bit. Usually he answers pretty quick. “Janster?” More nothing. He twists the knob and opens the door a crack, poking his head in. “Helloooo? Anyone home?” He steps in. The lights are off, the bed is made, everything is in its place. He must not be here.

As he looks around the empty room, Remus has the very big urge to ruin the almost perfect setup. Put dirt and worms in the bed, fill the pillowcases with mayo (or maybe another sticky white substance, who knows), and if he wasn’t so tired, he probably would have. But all he felt was… empty. The only person who likes him, or at least pretended to like him, was gone. And he’s here. All alone. 

His eyes burn. Why are his eyes burning? He hadn’t bleached them or anything so- oh. Tears. Shit. 

He rubs his eyes with his sleeve. Why is he so worked up about this? This isn’t the first time Janus went somewhere without telling him, so why is he crying like a little baby  _ bitch _ ? His eyes catch something on the bed. It’s… the stuffie. The one he made to give to Janus. It’s unlike the other stuffed animals he’d made, which are all disfigured and blood stained by design. It’s just a simple yellow teddy bear with little dark grey accents, which included a bow tie, a detachable hat, and tiny little gloves. It's sitting on the left of the made bed. 

He stares at it for a moment. Then another. And breaks. 

The dizziness he has been feeling overtakes him, and he sinks to the floor. He curls up into a semi fetal position and cries, sobs into his knees. He misses Jan. He wants to be talked to about nothing and soothed and just fucking cared for, that was it! To be paid attention to and treated… nicely! But that’s too much to ask for, he guesses. He looks up at the bed, and _god,_ it looked so nice and comfy, his bed never looked like that, he barely had the energy to get out of it some days let alone make it. He crawls over on his knees to the foot, grabs one of the long corner poles and pulls himself up onto it. He reaches out for the stuffie and holds onto it tight. He lays there and cries for he doesn’t know how long. In the back of his mind he feels guilty, he’s probably getting the bear all dirty and Jan’s gonna have to clean it and _fucking hell_ he’s such a burden to the person he probably cares the most for…

He feels heavy, and for the first time in a while, he finally falls asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It gets better I promise. Any comments or feedback is appreciated. If you see any grammar mistakes feel free to point them out in the comments, I didn't really proof read this so there are probably a few.


	2. Chapter 2

Janus rises up in dark sides common area and sighs. He really can never get a word in with the lights, can he? He was trying to  _ help,  _ but no, they have to be children, and act on their personal biases no matter the consequence, no matter how it hurts Thomas. Whatever. He tried his best. He’ll just have to bring something else to the table next time. 

He sits down on the couch and removes his hat, smoothing out his hair. He just doesn’t know why they can’t just get their head out of their asses and listen. He isn’t the villain, just because his methods aren’t as “morally sound” doesn’t mean he doesn’t deserve a spot at the table. Things were getting better, sure, but he was still being pushed to the side, his opinion being held so much lower than the others. It was exhausting. His hand leaves his hair and trails down his face, rubbing at his temples a bit. 

Gods, he needs a break. Maybe a warm bath, with scented oils and a glass or two of white wine… yes, that would do nicely. 

He takes a deep breath and stands, walking to his door.

When he arrives he finds it halfway opened, which is odd. He always tries to make sure to close it, if not lock it, to avoid any further incidents with Remus. They still happened, of course, he stopped trying to count the amount of times he found bloody eyeballs and severed fingers in his bed, but if the door isn’t open the Duke is less likely to get … ideas.

Though, recently, there haven’t been that many incidents. He really hasn’t seen his friend at all, which considering how Remus is, well Remus, is just the tiniest bit concerning. He’s usually running around somewhere, causing chaos and whatever else. 

He steps in and looks around, but his eyes aren’t adjusted to the darkness of the room yet, so he can’t see much. 

It was probably nothing, and after his bath he can go through his room and make sure there aren’t any unwanted surprises waiting for him. 

He feels around for the light switch, and just as he’s about to flick on the light, he hears a little sniffle from the far right of his room. 

He freezes, scanning the room. He blinks a few times trying to force his eyes to pick out something other than shadows. Another sniffle, and then a … snort? Hm. Peculier. 

He stalks over to the source of the sounds, and as he gets closer the large shadow that is his bed started to get clearer. 

Instead of smooth sheets like he normally left his bed, there’s a large dark lump in the middle. He closes the rest of the distance between him and the bed and leans over the side, trying to get a good look at what was on it. 

His eyes are almost fully adjusted and he can see… sequence? A messy head of hair, long arms clutching, what, the plushie Remus had gifted him? 

Oh. Remus? Why was Remus-

Before he can finish the thought the lump - Remus - stirs and shifts. Where Janus is standing he can only see Remus’ back, so he quickly walks around to the other side and kneels, trying to get eye level with his friend.

From this angle, he can clearly see his face. It’s stained with tear tracks and snot. It had reached so far that the blankets beneath him are damp, and so is the stuffed animal he’s holding on tightly to. He has a sort of unpleasant expression on his face, like he’s thinking about something upsetting. 

Without really thinking about it, Janus takes his gloved hand and places it on his forehead, trying to smooth some of the hair back that had stuck to it. Why had he been crying? What was so upsetting that it made the Duke, the embodiment of intrusive thoughts, curl up and hug a stuffed animal like a life line? 

Remus’ eyes start to shift behind his lids, and they slowly blink open. He makes a sound halfway between a groan and a whimper.

“Jan?” He asks quietly. Janus does his best not to cringe at the sound of his voice. It’s dry and crackly, like a man who’s been stuck in the desert and hasn’t seen water for weeks.

Janus puts on a soft smile for him, doing his best to be as gentle as possible. “Hello, dear.” His eyes look down to the concerningly dirty and rumpled clothes Remus is wearing. “Would you like to tell me what's going on?” He says, keeping his voice low.

Remus just shrugs. He blinks a few times and sniffles. “M’ sorry.” He says in barley a whisper. Janus wouldn’t have been able to hear him if he weren’t right next to him.

“Whatever for?” Oh goodness,  _ had  _ Remus done something? Was this some sort of prank, was he going to reveal he had left spiders in his bed again? 

Remus swallows. “... for makin’ your bed all dirty.” He licks his lips and his eyelids droop.

Janus blinks a few times. Remus seldom apologized for making a mess. Gracious, what had happened? 

“It’s no trouble, dear, none at all. I had to wash them anyways.” That was a lie, he washed them the day prior, but he hopes it would make Remus feel a little less… sad about the situation. His eyelids close all the way for a moment, but he fights to keep them open, trying to focus on Janus.

“You must be tired, hm?” It is at this point he slips off his gloves and starts going through Remus’ hair with his bare hands. He almost regrets it, though, when he feels how greasy and knotty it is. Despite this, he doesn’t stop, noticing how it seems to make Remus relax a bit more. “Oh my,” He sighs. “You really haven’t been taking good care of yourself, have you?” He says it quietly, but Remus still manages to hear. He shrugs.

“Guess not.” He mumbles. He leans into the touch though, Janus’ naturally cold hands feeling very nice in his admittedly very filthy hair.

“We should probably do something about that.” Janus says, more to himself than Remus. “How about this, we get you… moderately clean and then you can go right back to sleep? Would that be alright?” Janus is going to regardless of whether Remus wants to or not, but it was better to ask than to tell. Remus always hated the process of bathing.

Remus just shrugs again. This was truly unusual. He hadn’t made one gross sex joke or random disgusting fact in the entire time they had been talking. He was barely speaking at all. Janus would have to get to the bottom of this, he’s officially concerned now.

He breaths out heavily, looking at Remus. Not now though. He can figure out what had caused this later. Now he had a rat bastard to take care of. His bath and wine would have to wait. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope that was okay! Again, any feedback or comments are appreciated and make my day. If you see any errors or mistakes, let me know.


	3. Chapter 3

He feels like he’s… floating. Not the bad float, like when he didn’t feel real or here, or forgot where “here” was, or forgot who  _ he  _ was. Or the sleepy float, when his mind turned off and drifted, 5 minutes turning into five hours, letting him escape whatever shit he was dealing with for a while. It’s a cozy float, like warm blood running down your skin, or the moments coming down from a sex high. It’s so very nice, the nicest he’s felt in a while, especially compared to what had just happened. To what just happened…. What. What had happened. 

Oh, shit, what  _ had  _ happened? He couldn’t remember.  _ Fucking shit  _ he couldn’t remember. It was something with, like, uh, uhhhhh, like a, a, soft thing? Yeah, something with a soft thing… oh, he was holding a soft thing. A stuffie? Looked like a teddy bear. Then he remembered that he had  _ made  _ the teddy bear. And given it to someone, he thought. Must have, it totally wasn’t his style. If he had made it for himself, there’d be way more blood and teeth. Maybe even a dick attached. 

Who would he have given a teddy bear to? That’s a weird thing to give someone, unless you’re super duper close with that someone, then he guesses it’s not so weird-

The constant slow movement in his hair stops. Why was there something in his hair? He hadn’t noticed it until it stopped, was that relevant to the something that had happened? He strains hard to remember, but all he could come up with was fuzziness and… bad. A bad feeling. He had felt bad during the something. Well, he usually always felt bad, but especially then, like a bad, empty, sort of hollow. Like, when you look into the eyes of a dead person and see there's nothing behind those milky, cloudy eyes, and realize there never will be a person to look back at you again. 

The movement has moved further down to his … shoulder. Small circles are being rubbed into it, near his boney collarbone, and  _ fucking shit  _ that feels so nice. The floaty feeling is coming back now and he’d so ready to give into it, all he wants to do right now is drift and feel at peace.

It stops.

Nooooooooo, why did it stop? It was so  _ nice  _ dammit, bring it back! He, with much effort, wrenches his eyes open, which he hadn’t realized he had closed, but whatever, he wants the floaty back! It felt so nice back give it back right now now  _ now- _

There’s a. Hum? Above him? He flicks his eyes up, and emerald green meets mitch matched brown and yellow. Then, suddenly, everything he’s been trying so hard to remember comes back in a rush. The loneliness, the looking for snaky company, finding none, and then the overwhelming flood of being abandoned. Him waking up, the silent promise of being taken care of. Janus looking at him and talking to him oh so softly. His heart feels like its being squeezed, which is weird cause he’s been convinced he doesn’t have one for quite some time now. Or, if he does, it’s frozen and cold in his chest. Or maybe in the belly of some sea monster he created. 

Well, according to a certain blue light side, he definitely doesn't have a heart. And he never did in the first place. 

Jan smiles softly at him, which is another weird thing. Jan’s rarely soft, if he is at all. The only time Remus has ever seen Janus being kind and gentle, like he’s being with him now, is when he caught him cooing at one of his snakes, right before a book was thrown at him and a door was slammed in his face. He’s pretty sure Jan keeps his soft side in a box in the farthest corner of his brain. At least, that's what Remus does with all his bad icky brain shit he doesn’t wanna deal with. Works pretty well for him. Well, except when it doesn’t. Like now, for example. 

“I think we’ve stalled long enough, yes? Let’s get you into a bath.” He says softly, and god if that doesn’t sound like the worst fucking possible thing right now. He  _ is  _ dirty, that much is true, but that’s how he’s supposed to be! That’s like his default mode, dirty, and grimy, and more often than not, bloody.

He tries to convey this to Janus the best he can, which is whining and wiggling a little in place. He seems to get the message, and nods.

“I know, I know you don’t want to, but the sooner we get it over, the sooner you can go back to sleep. That sounds nice, right?” He says, trying to sweeten the deal, Remus guesses. But it doesn’t sound nice, dammit, when he can just go back to sleep right now!

Jan rubs his shoulder a bit, probably trying to motivate him to move, and  _ oh FUCK,  _ that’s so  _ nice,  _ holy _ SHIT,  _ and Remus is very tempted to cause a scene and scream and cry and do anything, fucking  _ anything  _ for more of that, whatever the hell it is. Janus removes his hand, and it’s over, gone, far too soon. 

He can’t help but let out a high pitched, whiny groan, and for a split second it’s back as Jan pats his arm, once, twice, and then it’s gone again. 

“I know, baths are horrible, but we gotta get you up to take one, alright? Come on, dear, let’s go.” Janus moves, stands up from his place kneeling next to him. He walks closer to the farthest wall, where a door is. His bathroom, probably. 

As Remus watches him move further away, he gets a…. feeling. In his chest. Achy and painful. It feels like when he first came in this room, and found it empty. The cold ache that made him curl up and cry in his best friends bed. 

He hates this feeling, he decides. He wants Janus to be closer to him, not getting farther away. He closes he eyes. Well, there's only one way to fix that.

He shifts so half of his legs are dangling off the bed, which, fucking Christ, took more effort than it should have. 

“Hm, finally deciding to get up?” He hears Janus say from across the room. “Good, I was just about to draw the bath- wait, Remus?!” He hears a little closer as he rolls and pushes the last of his body off the bed. He expect to hit hard ground almost immediately, but. Doesn't. 

He hears ruffling and quick footsteps, and then he  _ does  _ hit something but its… its not the ground. Its firm, but… not hard? Multiple somethings are wrapping around him, a firm and warm pressure. He opens his eyes, and for the second time today, they meet hazel and yellow ones that blink back at him, the face attached to them closer than he would have ever expected. 

The warm feeling surrounding him starts to burn. It feels like  _ fire,  _ like someone stuck him in a cremation chamber fully conscious. It  _ hurts,  _ it  _ sears,  _ like the things wrapped around him are branding him, blackening and charring his skin. 

It’s incredible. 

The cold ache in his chest completely goes away, and he feels like he's being filled with something warm and full. Yeah, that's it. He feels full. 

“God, Re, can’t you just get up like a normal person?” Janus scoffs with false annoyance, and the whole warmth surrounding him rumbles. But he doesn’t have the energy to answer. He too busy drinking in this, whatever it is. This perfect scorch. 

He feels the flotiness on the edges of his brain, and he welcomes it. He doesn’t want to be present, he doesn't need to be. He’s absolutely content with just being and experiencing this amazing feeling.

He feels being jostled and then the warm moves just a bit. Surprised, he looks around, and sees yellow hands adjusting around him. Janus’ hands, more than there usually are. Hm. Interesting. He must’ve summoned his extras, he thinks, settling back down into the heat.

The rumblings happening again, but he can’t make out the words attached to it. That's fine. This is fine. This is  _ good.  _ When's the last time anything's ever been  _ good _ ? He can’t remember. It doesn’t matter anyways. As long as  _ this _ lasts, he’s gonna be good. He’s gonna be  _ great _ . He smiles a little, and lets himself float. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> kinda a longer end note here, sorry. if some of this doesn’t make sense, its mostly based on my experiences. the floaty feeling wipes my memory a lot, and then sometimes it jolts back suddenly. sorry if that was confusing, idrk what to call it, i just tried to describe it in the way that made most sense to me. also, i went back and fixed the tenses on the previous chapters so it all matches, and some other edits here and there, so i hope it reads better now. anyways, thanks for reading ! if you have any comments or feedback, id love to hear them, they make me really happy. if you see any errors or mistakes, feel free to point them out. i hope you have a good day !


End file.
